


Of Alcohol and Teenage Delinquency

by jucee



Category: Slam Dunk
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:18:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jucee/pseuds/jucee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s New Year’s Eve, and they get drunk on the floor of Sakuragi’s living room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Alcohol and Teenage Delinquency

**Author's Note:**

> The age of majority in Japan is twenty.

It’s New Year’s Eve, and they’re lounging around on the floor of Sakuragi’s living room because Rukawa had flatly refused to let Sakuragi enter his own apartment when this much alcohol was involved. And it really is a lot of alcohol, he muses as he stares at the beer bottle in his hand from a distance of five centimetres, and the label is kind of blurry but he isn’t too sure why.

Suddenly, Sakuragi laughs. “Y’know, you’re actually, like, still a _minor_?”

Rukawa raises an eyebrow -- or maybe a finger -- and says nothing.

“You’re a minor drinking alcohol. You’re like a _delinquent_ ,” Sakuragi says, and laughs far too loudly.

Rukawa takes a moment to feel distantly sorry for Sakuragi’s neighbours, then replies, “You should know. You’re the king of delinquents.”

“I’m not a delinquent!” Sakuragi protests belligerently, looking rather like he’s about to bash Rukawa’s head in with a baseball bat. “I’m a sportsman! Super genius basketo-man, Sakuragi Hanamichi!” he shouts with his hands thrown up into the air, and then topples over, landing on bottles and scattered potato chips and something that goes _crunch_.

Rukawa snorts. “You’re totally drunk idiot, Sakuragi Hanamichi.”

“M’not as drunk as _you_ ,” Sakuragi retorts. “You’re all slurrrring and everything, and I’m talking jussst fine.”

He digs the bottles and assorted rubbish out from under his back while he waits for Rukawa to respond, maybe argue that he isn’t drunk at all, and then Sakuragi can laugh really loudly in his face. But a moment passes in silence, then two, and he begins to wonder if Rukawa might not have just fallen asleep -- he’s still only _nineteen_ , after all, still a _kid_. Clearly he can’t hold his alcohol anywhere near as well as Sakuragi can.

And with such thoughts in mind, Sakuragi almost sprays a mouthful of beer back out again when Rukawa suddenly looms over him, hands on either side of his head and face only inches away. Belatedly, Sakuragi remembers to swallow.

“You’re slurring too,” Rukawa says, and it takes Sakuragi a long moment to realise what he’s talking about. But it doesn’t really matter at this point whether he’s slurring or Rukawa’s slurring or maybe they’re both slurring, because Rukawa’s lips are pressed up against his, hot and dry and a lot more boring than Sakuragi had expected it to be, really, until Rukawa apparently decides to open his mouth. So he opens his mouth too, and then it’s _wet_ , kind of sloppy, even, but it makes something inside of him twist sharply, and he finds that he’s suddenly really, really hard.

They both pull back at the same time, breathing heavily. “Y’know this is only ‘cause I’m drunk, right?” Rukawa murmurs, his lips brushing against Sakuragi’s with every word.

“Yeah,” Sakuragi says. “Me too.” And he crushes his mouth against Rukawa’s again, so hard that their teeth knock and it hurts but neither of them stop.

Then, inevitably, the sloppy but somehow really hot kissing turns into even hotter humping. Rukawa grinds almost frantically against Sakuragi while Sakuragi tries to lift his hips up to meet the hard thrusts, and Rukawa comes first with a soft grunt, leaving Sakuragi with a desperate hard-on and a dead weight on top of him. He’s still young, though, even if he’s older than Rukawa, and he manages to create enough friction to make just as big a mess in his pants as Rukawa did. Probably more, he thinks, and snickers in Rukawa’s ear.

“What?” Rukawa mumbles, and tries again to move his fingers -- or maybe his eyebrows -- with no success. He’s not too concerned, though, since Sakuragi makes a surprisingly comfortable bed.

“Nothing,” Sakuragi says. They lie there quietly for a moment, until Sakuragi snickers again when another thought occurs to him. “You came _first_ , stupid fox. You lasted like, _five seconds_.”

Only half-listening, Rukawa discovers that he’s regained the strength to lift his head, sort of, which of course means that he decides to nuzzle the side of Sakuragi’s sweaty neck instead, and he smirks when Sakuragi makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a whimper. “If I lasted five seconds, you only lasted five seconds _more_ , super genius basketo-man,” he mutters against warm, salty skin.

“Hrrerm,” Sakuragi mumbles, really not caring that he’s making no sense at all, because--

“We’re still drunk, aren’t we?”

“Hrrerm,” Sakuragi mumbles again, nodding.

“Good,” Rukawa says, and unzips Sakuragi’s jeans.

Neither of them notice when the clock strikes twelve; it’s New Year’s Day, and they’re lounging around on the floor of Sakuragi’s living room with their hands inside each other’s pants because they’re drunk, or so they tell themselves.

But Rukawa’s no longer a minor, so at least they’re not _underage_ delinquents.


End file.
